


One is Two, Two is One (Two is Two)

by Jungle321jungle



Series: jungle321jungle's (Sanders Sides) Oneshots [9]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Creativitwins, Homelessness, Kid Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Kid Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Kid Sides (Sanders Sides), Loneliness, Spoilers, i dont know how to tag this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:55:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24060097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jungle321jungle/pseuds/Jungle321jungle
Summary: He was alone. So he split.He’s not sure who is first and who is second or if theres an order at all, but it wasn’t supposed to matter anyway.Because two wasn’t- two shouldn't be alone.~~~~A very different take on the twin’s split.(spoilers for new video)
Relationships: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders & Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders
Series: jungle321jungle's (Sanders Sides) Oneshots [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1892947
Comments: 3
Kudos: 75





	One is Two, Two is One (Two is Two)

** One is Two, Two is One (Two is Two) **

It had been easy. 

Remarkably easy in fact. 

To go from one to two. 

He had blinked and there he was, two and not one. Two was greater than one. Two was company. Two wasn't alone. 

He couldn’t remember before two well. There were basics that he knew, what city he was in, the date, that it was raining, and he knew it had been evening. He knew that he had been cold- that he had been sitting- that he had been crying- that he had been lamenting- that he had been _lonely_. 

And then his arms were wrapped around someone. Someone else sitting- some else crying- someone else lamenting... and as he opened his eyes to see his own face staring back, he understood. He was two. 

And two wasn’t lonely. 

He could talk, and he could listen. He could argue, and he could laugh. It didn’t matter that he knew both sides of the conversation, it didn’t matter that he knew how the joke or story he was telling was gonna end, because he was two. 

And two was better than one. 

It didn’t matter that it was harder to find places to sleep, clothes to wear, food to eat. Because he was together. It didn’t matter that the rest of the world had tossed him on the street without a care or second thought. Because he was two, because two was someone to talk to. 

Other people were strange- they were interesting- they were different. They could bring joy or pain at the drop of hat and it was the risk he was drawn to. There were people who sought to fix him, to force him to join the rest of people- but he didn’t need them. He was two. There were people who felt sorry for him, he didn’t like the pity, but he’d always smile and accept the free food. 

And then there were people like Patton. 

Patton didn’t wish to fix him. He didn’t pity him. He simply gave expecting nothing in return. It seemed that Patton genuinely cared for his well being at times. So perhaps that’s why he answered. 

“Are you both enjoying the French fries?”

“Yes,” he answered, taking a bite. 

Patton gave a smile as he took a sip from his milkshake and kicked his legs lazily on the park bench. “It’s such a nice day.”

“It’s warm.”

Patton gave a slight laugh and looked at him, “I know I’ve asked you before kiddos, and you haven’t said- and you still don’t have to!” He said quickly. “But... but what are your names?”

“Roman.” “Remus.”

He looked at himself in confusion. That wasn’t his name. That had never been his name. He was him. He was two- but he wasn’t two different people. 

“Those are great names!” Patton cheered before he glanced at his watch. “Oh sorry kiddos, I’m late for work. You guys are always welcome to stop by the bakery!”

  
  


“You said the wrong name,” he told himself. “I didn’t. You did,” he replied. “You did. I know who I am. My name is

“Remus.” “Roman.”

“ _That’s not my name!_ You are me! Our name is

“Roman!” “Remus!”

He had always been him. And since he split he had been two. Two bodies with one mind. 

Or did he not realize how deep the split ran?

~~~~

Was he first or second? Or was he a third? Had he come from another?

He was two. But he couldn’t remember one. Had he truly gotten his name wrong? No he had been right. So _he_ must’ve been wrong. But how was that right? Who was the first? Who was the second? And who was the last?

He was two. 

But it was soon after he would understand as words he didn’t intend left his mouth. 

“This is a bad idea-”

“I think we should-”

“I want-”

“I know-”

Words which weren’t his were being spoken- expressed- but they shouldn’t be. Even if he was two. Two bodies, one mind, one person. 

But when the mind contradicts itself... How many selves are left?

~~~~

Janus was a person who fell into the different category, he simply was himself in a way that didn’t seem to fit the rest of the world. He cared in his own way- yet in some manners his version of care mirrored indifference. He’d give food and clothes and come by daily before vanishing and returning at a later date. Like Patton he gave, but unlike him he did expect something in return- but oddly nothing he’d gain himself. 

Janus wanted him to live as best a life he could, but unlike Patton he seemed to know he could not provide it.

“So the sweatshirts did fit then?” Janus commented offhandedly, as if they had last spoken days ago rather than months. 

“Yes,” he answered glancing down at the sweatshirt he was wearing. One perfect for the chilly air. 

Janus gave a nod, his attention more focused on the phone in his hands then on anything else. 

“Where do you go?” he asked before he could stop his other self. 

Janus blinked in surprise and then he watched, saying nothing before he looked away once more, “I don’t live here, my dad does. I live with my mom. I just come here to visit now and then... Where do you two go?”

“Nowhere.” “Everywhere.”

Janus looked amused but he didn’t say anything more on the topic. “I’m turning eighteen soon,” he said instead. “After I do, my dad can’t make me come here anymore. I’ll be sure to bring you both the rest of my old clothes before then.”

“Thank you.” “Will you come at all?”

“I don’t know...” He paused in thought before he shook his head and pocketed his phone. “You two want something to eat? My dad gave me his credit card.”

“He’s leaving,” He told himself later. “Stop thinking about him. I like him. Who cares? I do. You’re me- you don’t care. No. You’re _me_ . No I’m not. Yes you are- yes _we_ are. We are me! No... We are _we_ . You’re wrong, and you’re me so I can’t be wrong. _You_ got our name wrong... So how can anything you say be right?”

~~~~

Logan was an interesting person. He had initially met Logan when he had come into the library to avoid the rain and had found a corner to sit and wait to dry off. Persons had passed him by without interest- without care- until Logan had come over and frowned.

“Are you both alone?” Logan had asked simply.

He shook his head and held up his hand in his own, “No, we are together.”

The librarian considered him for a moment before he sighed, “Do you want to catch a cold?” He hadn’t given time to respond before he turned to walk away. “Come with me.”

He had brought them to the bathroom to drip water on the tile before leaving and returning with a bag. “I didn’t go to the gym today,” he said, pulling a towel from the bag. “My clothes certainly wouldn’t fit but you can at least dry off properly... My name is Logan. I’m the head librarian here.”

Logan hadn’t said much else. When he had dried Logan led him to the kids section where he remained while Logan worked. Logan stopped by a few times simply to clean up the area, to see if he was alright, to give him some food, and to tell him the library was closing.

“I’d let you stay if I could,” he told them. 

“If you’re the head, then let us.” “It's okay.”

“Head or not I still have someone I work for,” Logan replied. “But I do know of the shelter nearby, would you like me to walk you there? I have an umbrella.”

“No.” “Yes.”

Logan had watched him with an unchanging gaze as he locked the door and put up his umbrella before he handed it over. “I’ll let you both make the final decision. The library opens at nine tomorrow, but I should be here around eight.”

“Where are you going? To the bakery, you know that. I was going to the library. The library can wait, Patton will have muffins. But Logan told me to come. I don’t want to though. I want- I want...” he trailed off looking at his own face. What _did_ he want?

~~~~

Virgil was younger than him. Perhaps by a year or two, the boy had never said his age and he had no reason to ask him what it was. The kid was nice enough but he didn’t necessarily like him- no he did like him. Virgil was fun- no he wasn't he was boring. 

“Is that your dad?” His other self had asked Virgil once.

Virgil shook his head as he focused on trying to get even higher on the swing, “That’s Thomas. He’s my foster dad, but he’s really cool. Ha! I’m higher than you now!”

“No you’re not!”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “We’ll clearly not you, you’re not swinging. I’m talking to _him._ ”

“I’m still higher,” his other self smiled. 

“Not for long!”

Virgil was fun to play with. He was quiet but competitive, once a game was proposed he decided that he had to win and that’s what was fun about him- no it was what was stupid about him. Virgil was younger and annoying. He could only talk about school and Thomas- Virgil talked about Thomas a lot, but Thomas sounded nice. Thomas was nice as he handed over extra juice boxes. Thomas just felt bad for him. Thomas cared. Thomas didn’t- Thomas did- Thomas-

  
  


It was people which always confused him- confused his selves. 

When alone his thoughts on simple things, food, clothes, and the same answer came from both mouths. But when Patton asked him anything- when Janus asked about clothes- when Logan asked his favorite books- when Virgil would tell them about how great Thomas was - that was when the thoughts and words would differ. 

He denied it. He tried so hard to deny the differences- but those other people had noticed. 

“It’s okay to have different opinions,” Logan had said as he checked out the two books. 

“Huh, you’re a bit taller,” Janus had commented. “These pants are a little longer so these will fit you better.”

“A chocolate cupcake for you, and strawberry for you,” Patton smiled. “That's what each you like, right?”

Virgil had looked at him like he was stupid, “Of course I can tell you both apart.”

  
~~~~  
  


He had been in denial. But now it was clear. 

Here he was. A one of two muffins Patton had given him was in his hand. The smaller of the two pairs of pants Janus had given on, a book in his hands, and watching himself across the park laughing with Virgil while he sat quietly, it was clear. So clear. 

He was not we. He was he, and we was we. Separate but different. 

Two was two. 

Not one. Not one mind. Not one body. 

Two minds. Two bodies. Two persons.

Two was two. 

And two _shouldn’t_ be as lonely as it was.


End file.
